Mama to five frozen teens.
Married to the Mister.
Writing - Meditating - Reading - Senior Dog Doting - Sober Living - are my jam.
Life is good.

Saturday, March 31, 2012

We are Not Garage People

Every family has their special lingo unique to them. Let me introduce on of ours:

Garage People: People whose garages are organized to the extent that a vehicle may be permitted both entrance AND exit.It's important to not both Entrance AND exit, because if you have a vehicle in your garage that just stays in your garage and cannot leave, while your working vehicle cannot enter and exit your garage so it sits in the drive, you do not meet the definition of Garage People.

The other day, my neighbor friend asked me about another couple in our neighborhood.

"Are they still married?" she asked. "I never see the husband around anymore."

Well, in our neck of the woods, you don't see many people around from November through March/April because there is snow up the wazzoo and people hibernate. So really, what she meant is, I haven't seen his car around, because really at this time of the year, we don't expect to actually see an actual life-form, just evidence of it.

"Oh, he's still around, you just don't see him because he's Garage People."

"Huh?" was the response.

At that moment, I realized that Garage People was indeed a unique phrase to us.

"Uh, Garage People. You know, people who are orderly enough where they can actually use their garage to store their car at night. That's why you don't see him."

"Oh! I get it! Totally." Pause. "We only can pull a car in one half of our garage. What does that make us?"

"Garage Half-Breeds," I explained. "Oh, maybe, since you have 5 kids and can pull a car in, Garage Savants, because that takes a special type of magic to pull that off."

A special magic, indeed. A special magic that we definitely do not possess.

This is our garage.We are Not Garage People.

I do not think that the Mister and I can ever hope to be Garage People. At the very least, definitely not while we have 5 kids in our house.

The garage is the Mister's Domain. I'm not so much sure that is by his choice, but rather, by the fact that I am calling it His Domain. Because after all, every man needs some Man Space of his own, right? And what better space than the garage.

Several years back, I would periodically tackle the garage while the kids were playing. I'd sweep, purge, organize and attempt to find the top of the Mister's workbench.

Before the end of the week, it would be right back to where it was prior to my busting my hump for the day.

So, I gave up on it.

Not so much "gave up" as "relinquished control."

Not so much "relinquished control" as "delegated the mess to someone else."

* We're the hang up our hula hoops on the bike hooks because the hula hoops won't hurt our heads the way the bikes do when we stand up too quickly after picking up the several dozen pairs of shoes, boots and rollerblades scattered all around the shoe bins people.

* We're the extra refrigerator out there that leaks people, and the I'm pretty sure no fewer than 9 mice make their home in the Mister's workbench people as well.

* And because the mice live in the garage, we are "Shake Your Boots Out to Make Sure There's No Dead Mice in Them before You Put Them On" people.

* We mix our rakes up with our snow shovels and all are accessible every month of the year people (which, really, makes us the Being Prepared for Anything people.)

* And lastly, we're the when we're at the neighborhood block party and everyone's had a few beers, and the love and friendly feelings are flowing, we apologize to our across-the-street neighbors for being Not Garage People (and, in turn, we are the We Have Awesome Neighbors Who Love Us Although We're Not Garage People people."

(Seriously, though, I don't think people who have clean garages are weirdos with no life. I'm just trying to make myself feel better because, seriously, have you seen the picture of my garage?!? If you are Garage People, be proud and know that you have my true admiration.)

The 5FC Crew

About Me

5 kids, 2 dogs, 3 cats, and I'll pass on the partridge in the pear tree for now, thanks (although I'd take a pear tree.) We survived our 30 month long Haitian adoption process, and now I just try to live life in the moment, whether it's homeschooling, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, refereeing, bandaging ouchies, giving hugs, vacuuming, doling out kisses, picking up play-dough, or attempting to keep up on the blog. My Mister is a legalized drug pusher, saving the local population from the horrors of herpes and prostrate problems. We put up with the burbs for now, but would one day like to live in the country, where I can raise alpacas, the girls can train dogs, our boys can be boys, and Mr. C. can work on project cars (waaayy out of sight in the far back of the yard) to his heart's content!